


I'd Know You Anywhere

by lilbluednacer



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drabble, F/M, Inspired by Alice in Wonderland, Stiles Stilinski Loves Lydia Martin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 19:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12824013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilbluednacer/pseuds/lilbluednacer
Summary: Lydia should have never followed the wolf.





	I'd Know You Anywhere

**Author's Note:**

> _In another moment down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again._  
>  -Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

It's a hot August afternoon, and Lydia Martin is bored. 

She gets off the blanket her sister laid out for them, the soft blades of grass tickling her bare feet. She stretches, the hem of her blue organza summer dress swirling around her shins.

Across the garden a wolf walks into the trees.

Lydia blinks but the vision doesn't dissolve - it's a wolf, walking on two legs like a human, wearing _clothes_.

She follows him, walking through the rose bushes, the hedges sparkling in the sunlight, and into the woods. She tiptoes through the trees, dirt squishing between her bare toes. The wolf, either unaware of the girl behind him or simply unconcerned, leaps across the ground, jumps onto a giant tree stump - and disappears.

Lydia rushes over to the tree stump, climbs up onto the edge and stares - there's a hole in the middle of the stump. A curious thrill runs through her body, her mind lighting up at the possibilities - where has the wolf gone? What's on the other side of the hole? She walks right up to the edge, bends over, and jumps straight down, without even considering how she'll get back out.

Down she falls, her dress flying up above her waist, legs kicking in the air, falling and falling until finally she lands with a _thump_. She gets up on her knees, her head spinning. She's kneeling on the tree stump, the one she fell through, but it's dark out, she can't see anything but trees all around her. Lydia turns around on her bare knees, the wood scratching her skin, but the hole in the stump is gone.

Her breath catches in her chest, she scrambles across the stump but there's nothing there but charred wood. She rubs her hands over it, little slivers digging into her skin, but the tree trunk is solid, completely whole.

Tears pool in her eyes. How is she supposed to go home now? She doesn't even know where she is.

And now she's trapped here.

In the distance something howls.

Her skin breaks out in chills. Lydia clambers off the tree stump, looking around for a path, or a light, anything.

Another howl, closer this time.

"Hello?" she whispers, her voice shaking.

Silence.

And then, from off in the trees behind her, the sound of something crashing through the woods. She starts to run, pricks of pain stabbing her feet as she trips over sticks. She hears another howl, and then a _growl_. She runs faster, her heart pounding. Up ahead she finally sees something, a faint blue glow of light backlighting the trees.

The animal sounds are definitely getting closer. Lydia runs faster, tears streaming down her cheeks. She pushes through a gap between the trees and something reels her back, she twists in the air and slams into the ground. There's a ripping sound, when Lydia looks up the skirt of her dress is hanging off a branch, torn clean off the bodice. 

She doesn't have time to rescue her skirt, she leaves it hanging off the tree like a ghost. She isn't curious or excited anymore, she's terrified. She should have never walked into the woods, she shouldn't have followed the wolf. Her parents are probably sitting down to supper with her sister right now, wondering where Lydia has disappeared to.

She stumbles, realizing that short of a miracle, she's never going to see any of them ever again.

She can hear the wolf getting closer and closer. Lydia runs and runs, her heart jack hammering in her chest like a frightened rabbit. There's a log in her path, right in front of her, but in the dark she can't see it and she goes sprawling, hands and knees landing in the dirt. She tries to get up but her legs hurt and her palms are streaked with blood.

"Help," she whimpers, and starts to cry.

There's another flash of light ahead, like a lamp or a torch. 

"Help!" Lydia shouts, her voice shrill and cracking. "Someone, please help! Help me!"

The light moves closer.

Lydia lifts her face, squinting as blurry shapes materialize into three clearly human silhouettes moving towards her. Lydia's so relieved she drops her face to the ground and cries, shivering as something inhuman whines in the distance. 

"Oh my god!" It's a girl's voice, loud and terrified. "Oh my god, _Lydia!_ "

She lifts her head at the sound of her name. Three people, two boys and a girl, all roughly her age although the girl is dressed like a boy - dark pants, a sweater under a black jacket, boots. They all run towards her at the same time, the light from their torches zig-zagging over her face as they all skid to a stop in front of her.

"Lydia, Lydia, hey, hey, Lydia, it's okay, it's going to be okay." It's one of the boys, the one with light skin and eyes that glow molten gold in the moonlight. He whips off his jacket as he sinks to his knees in front of her. She stares at him with wide eyes, this strange boy who's looking at her like she's a fallen angel, or a goddess. Like she's someone he _knows_ , a beloved.

"Hey," he murmurs, and very gently lays his jacket over her like a blanket. "Lydia, talk to me."

She shivers under the weight of his jacket, her ears ringing with the sound of phantom howls. "How do you know my name?"

His eyes go wide, like he's suddenly afraid of her. "Lydia, it's _me_. It's Stiles."

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I don't know you. I don't know where I am."

Something in his face contorts. "You're in the preserve, Lydia. We've been looking for you for - for _weeks_."

She starts to shake, overcome with chills. What kind of world has she fallen into? Why does this boy insist that he knows her?

How does he know her name?

"You don't understand," she whispers. "I'm not - I'm not from here."

The other boy drops to the ground behind Stiles, Lydia catches a flash of dark hair and worried eyes. The girl is crouched by Stiles' side, the same look of fear on her face.

"Stiles," she says tightly. "She isn't wearing the same dress."

"What?" He looks a little dazed, his hands clenching in the air like he's restraining himself from touching her.

"Her dress," the girl says. For some reason she sounds very upset. "Her winter formal dress, it was cream, remember? With" -

A black sash," Stiles finishes, and scrambles back into the other boy. "That's not - that's not her dress, what the - what the _hell_ is going on?"

Lydia stares at this strange display. "Of course this is my dress." It's one of the only things she's certain of right now.

"I thought you said she was in the shower when she disappeared?" the other boy questions. "If anything shouldn't she be..."

The girl reaches up behind herself in one swift movement and suddenly there's an arrow pointed at Lydia's throat. She shrieks, covering her head with her arms. What kind of world is this, where animals walk on two legs and children carry weapons?

"Allison," the other boy says, his voice soft but firm. "You're scaring her."

"She's not Lydia," the girl says.

"Okay, we don't _know_ that she's not Lydia," Stiles says. "Maybe she has a head injury."

The girl, Allison, lowers her bow but doesn't put it away. "Who are you?" she asks in a steely voice.

Lydia peeks up at the girl through the protection of her forearms. "Lydia Martin."

"Told you!" Stiles says triumphantly.

"Okay," Allison says, sounding a little shaken. "Where are you from, Lydia Martin?"

"New Beacon, Califia," she says in a trembling voice.

"What the hell?" the dark haired boy spits out.

"The etymology of California can be traced to Califia," the boy named Stiles says faintly. "Do you... do you think..."

"How did you get here?" Allison asks sharply.

Lydia curls up tighter on the ground. "You won't believe me."

Stiles laughs, sounding slightly hysterical. "Try us."

"There was a wolf," she whispers.

"A _wolf_?" the dark haired boy repeats loudly.

"It - it was _walking_ , like a person," she says shakily. "I followed it. There was a tree - it used to be a tree. A stump. The wolf - it went _through_ it. There was a hole in the stump, and I jumped through it, and I came out here but the hole was closed and I don't know who you are or why you know my name because I'm not from here, you see."

"Scott?" Allison says it like she's asking a question.

The boy named Scott shakes his head. "She's too upset. Her heart's all over the place, I can't get a baseline."

Lydia hears it again, the distant howling, and huddles under the borrowed jacket.

"We need to go," Scott says tightly.

"Do you really think - Peter?" Stiles asks.

"I don't think we should stick around to find out," Scott mutters, getting to his feet before looking down at Lydia. "Come on, let's take her to Deaton's."

Stiles scrubs his hands with his face. "If she's not - then Lydia - _our_ Lydia" -

"Not here," Scott says quickly, looking at Lydia in a way that makes her go limp, like he can see right through what's left of her clothing and down to her very core. "Can you"-

"Yeah, yeah." Stiles waves a hand at him. "Got it."

Allison gets up and stands next to Scott, eyes scanning the trees, like she's ready to guard them against an attack. Stiles comes close to her again and there's something about him, his eyes, the way he moves, how his face softens when he looks at her. 

Something familiar.

"Hey," he murmurs, hovering over her. "Do you think you can get up?"

She nods and when he doesn't do anything she raises an eyebrow. "Well? Aren't you going to help me?"

Something flashes over his face, an expression she can't read, and then his hands are coming up under her shoulders and pulling her up to her knees. Lydia hisses, raw scraped skin stinging in the dirt, her bloody palms dripping red stains up her arms as she shivers and shakes. Stiles is so close and maybe it's improper but she just melts into him, letting him take her weight.

"Hey," he says, sounding both surprised and worried. "Hey, Lydia, look at me."

There's something about his voice, something that makes her turn her face up to him automatically, like she's helpless to his demand. His eyes are very wide and one of his hands comes up to her jaw, long fingers curling under her chin. She can't remember someone touching her like this before, like she's delicate and precious.

"I'm very confused right now," she confesses quietly.

"I know," he says kindly, his voice soft and warm. "It'll be okay, we'll figure this out."

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere safe," he says simply.

"Oh." She presses her cheek against his chest, the fabric of his shirt soft against her skin. "I'm - I'm a little afraid."

"Hey." His thumb rubs over her skin and she shivers. "It's okay. You can trust us."

"It was chasing me," she whispers. "The wolf."

His arms tighten around her. "We won't let him hurt, okay?"

She blinks back tears. "I wish I knew you."

"It's okay," he soothes. "You're - you're safe now, and that's what matters."

She grips his shirt as he shifts underneath her, preparing to stand. "I don't - I don't think I can go home. I couldn't find the entrance."

He gets his hands under her legs and stands up, setting her lightly on her feet and holding her against his side when her knees give out. "Tell me about it. Home."

She blinks heavily against him, wincing as they start to walk behind Scott and Allison, her bare feet tender against the rocks and sticks she stumbles over. She tries to remember it, home, but all that she can really recall is the garden, the lush grass tickling her toes, the sweetness of the roses, sunlight on her face. 

She can't even remember the _name_ of home, and she's so sure she said it only a few minutes ago.

Maybe home isn't even real. Maybe it was just a lovely dream, a fantasy, a made up sister on a made up blanket in a made up place. Maybe reality is dirt and wolves and girls who dress like soldiers, and boys with warm eyes who look at you like you're a miracle in the body of a girl.

Maybe _she_ isn't real.

"Is she okay?" Scott turns around, walking backwards next to Allison. "Her heart is going crazy again."

"Lydia," Stiles says softly. "Talk to me, are you okay?"

The trees spin all around him and she falls into his chest, her hands clutching at his waist. "I don't think it's real," she gasps out. "I can't remember - what if it's not real? What if none of it is - what if I'm not either?"

"Whoa, hey, no." He reaches down and cups her cheek, gently forcing her head up. "Lydia, look at me. I know you don't know me or remember me or whatever the hell is going on but I know you, I'd know you anywhere. You're real, okay? I _promise_ , you're real."

She reaches up and curls her fingers around his wrists. "Do you love her?" she whispers, hypnotized by his eyes. "Your Lydia?"

His eyes flutter shut and then he goes stiff, dropping his head down to press a kiss to the top of her head. "Come on," he says in a scratchy voice. "We're almost there."

He doesn't say yes with his mouth but she hears it anymore, reads it in every line of his body.

Maybe she doesn't know what's happening but she is suddenly sure that this, this feeling, this thing between them - _that's_ real.

She lets him take her hand, his palm reassuringly solid against hers, and they continue on into the unknown.


End file.
